


Welcome Home

by SimonMonroe



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1940s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 16:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimonMonroe/pseuds/SimonMonroe
Summary: Just a little something I wrote when I was inspired.





	Welcome Home

It was the summer of 1930 when I left that monstrous, unforgivable, repugnant building. Now, 10 years later, it was my duty to return to the residence that I had once sighed in relief to escape. The outrageous, scorching sun was unrelenting as I sat in my respective carriage, on my way to what I could only consider to be my eventual demise; you reap what you sow. It's a pity that that dwelling didn't crash and burn just as wall street had a year before I made my 'great' escape. Seemingly, it wasn't great enough.

I peered out at the scenery that stared back, miles and miles of nothing but trees. Endless trees. It was the perfect location for that cursed residency. 'It needed it's privacy' after all- or so I had been told in my childhood by the man I trusted the most. My father. That was before that place murdered him as it will surely murder me. The steady trotting was coming to a stop. A tightening erupted throughout my chest, my heart pounding and my breathing suddenly laboured without my permission. It couldn't be helped, I decided. This place naturally installed fear in every being who passed by. Those who were lucky to pass by and survive, that is.

My carriage halted, and I glanced at the imposing building, but couldn't hold my stare for long as it glared back with much more ferocity than I could ever be capable of. The door was torn open, and I couldn't help jumping as my driver appeared, hand held out for me to take. I took the seemingly sweaty hand with my own gloved one, crouching down to exit as to avoid knocking my beloved hat off of my head. The once scorching sun was no more, hidden behind the trees. Even the sun couldn't bear to look upon this abomination. Nothing could mask it's corruption. The terrain crunched and crumbled beneath my heels, and I could only hope that that wasn't the only thing that would crumble beneath me. It was kill or be killed, and I would not be killed easily.

I sluggishly strolled up to the mouth of the beast (who would hurry to their downfall?), and gripped the steel knocker, banging it once, twice, three times against the unrelenting door. I stood waiting, hoping my knocking hadn't been heard, but of course it had. They had been waiting for me after all. Within a matter of seconds, the door creaked, the mouth of the beast opening wide for me to enter so it could tear me to pieces.

My heels clattered against the spotless marble floor, as I entered carefully. The door yanked shut behind me, as if someone had been trailing after me and waiting for the moment I'd enter. Everything was as I'd left it. The spiraling, grand, luxurious staircase (whose banister I'd slid down when I was a child), stood as strong as it had the day I'd left. The glorious chandelier dangled directly above me as I peered up, however it seemed to snarl down at me, a warning that  _he_ was near. I returned my gaze to the staircase, where he stood. His charcoal locks engulfed his somber face. He was dressed to perfection in an elegant suit, ruined only by the tie, which was left slightly crooked - a sign that he hadn't had time to straighten it before my arrival. He daren't be seen as anything less than godly. I shifted my assessing gaze to his eyes, and tried - but failed - to suppress a shudder at what I found there. A cold, cool emptiness masked the unforgiving emotions in those once innocent eyes- hate and hunger. Hate at my abandonment... and hunger for the revenge to come, I realised, swallowing heavily. His lips, which were pressed tightly together, calculating and malicious, parted to show jagged, white daggers, and dread washed over me at the words he spoke.

_"Welcome home, mother."_


End file.
